Judgement
by BlUeEyEdFrEaK13
Summary: it is the 2nd story to ice it is general made from me only me and i hope u read like and review and the chapters may seem short and may take long to make but yup om gonna stop typing now
1. Chapter 1

I can't believe I'm writing again. I just felt the need to do this.

Chapter 1

For most people, the night of the eighth of May held nothing unusual. But, most of the world is ordinary, and the ordinary have no place in the realms of the living dead. On that night in particular, a large drug trafficking organization was taken down. The man in charge of the police raid went by the name of Joseph Marks. He was, by nature, a straightforward man, who preferred to do things in the most direct manner possible, with as little planning as he could get away with. This tactic rarely worked, (as one could see from the crime rates of the city) but Joseph was one of the few honest cops left on the police force, and no one could say that he wasn't dedicated to his work. In fact, he was one of a small group of cops that did much work, since most of the people on the force were taking bribes from the criminals they were supposed to be catching. Most of the undercover department was suspected to have gone rogue. Some of the operatives hadn't been heard from in weeks, and they were nearly impossible to track down due to their police training and criminal experience.

In short, the information that Amelia gave to the police went to waste. Between the poor planning, the dirty cops, and the lack of recent information about the criminal world from the members of the undercover force, the raid on the drug trafficking warehouse was a complete disaster.

The people who had paid off some of the police somehow managed to slip through the fingers of even the most capable officers. Some of the bolder (and stupider) druggies decided to take a stand. None of them survived, but they took a good number of people with them. The guy in charge, realizing his empire had been destroyed, shot himself in the head. By the time Joseph remembered the smaller warehouse and sent some officers there, it had already been set on fire to destroy the documents inside. The firefighters had done their best to control the blaze, but without much luck, and Joseph thought it highly unlikely that he would get any useful information from the few documents that had survived.

On the bright side, during the raid on the main warehouse, Joseph managed to track down quite a few of the undercover cops. It wasn't really hard, since most of them were lying on the floor stoned. That night had become the shame of police history, and justly so, because while Joseph and a few others panicked about the warehouse fire, they completely overlooked the young man standing back to watch the building burn.

The police may have lost the illusion of integrity, but that young man had lost everything. He had no work, for he had worked in that burning warehouse and he had no friends, because everyone he had some liking for, had died in the twenty-four hours prior to the police raid. The young man had expected to come back to the warehouse and be well rewarded for killing those who had betrayed the company, but there was no one. In one night, his entire life had been ripped to pieces by his own actions and the actions of others.

But all of this was overshadowed by the fact that the person whom he loved hadn't had to die. Cai had made his choice and stood by it, all the while grasping something that Spenser had only ever managed to brush his fingers against. This something was an object that everyone had understood but him. Cai died for it, and wasn't ashamed.

Amelia died for it, and she too, wasn't ashamed. They had both betrayed everything they had worked for, and yet, Spenser felt regret for killing them.

The wall that Spenser had built around his emotions began to crumble. The impossible feelings hit him and left him weak. They chased him down and haunted him. The same old streets were plagued by the same old memories. A few times he thought he saw Cai leaning against a wall or a street lamp. The apartment they had shared was no longer comforting, but filled with the emptiness that Cai had left behind.

Nights were long, and Spenser had nothing to do that would keep the ghosts at bay. When he did sleep, he had nightmares filled with the faces of those he had killed; a Chinese man, a young drug runner, a prostitute, and countless others. He would wake up, frightened and drenched with sweat, and call Cai's name, but there was never any answer. There were no loving arms to hold or protect him, no gentle kisses on his neck, no reassuring words whispered sweetly in his ear and known only to him and the one who had whispered them.

Alone.

Spenser was alone in this tortured hell, a hell of his own making.

He had to escape.

So on May fourteenth, Spenser got in his car and drove. He took only his orange baseball bat, his money, and a small suitcase filled with clothes. He drove the car for hours and hours without stopping. Eventually, he ran out of gas and so he got out of the car and continued on foot. The road on which he travelled ran parallel to a set train tracks, and so when an empty cargo train went by, Spenser took the opportunity and jumped on. It was heading in the same direction he was, (not that he had much of a destination in mind) and went much faster than he could walk. By this time, it was the middle of the night and he was exhausted, so Spenser curled up on the floor of the container car, and fell asleep.

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do u like it hope u do im trying to work on the frait train thing u know how i go from happy to sad to who kbows what

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	2. Chapter 2

sorry for taking time for making my second chapter

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Chapter 2

"Hey boys! I found one!"

Spenser awoke to a hand grabbing him roughly and hauling him out of the train car. He found himself sprawled out on the ground and unable to move due to the fact that there was a heavy foot planted squarely in the center of his back. It was a little bit after dawn, and the growing light must have given him away. He cursed himself for his carelessness, but accepted the fact that it was too late to do anything about it.

"Hey punk, you don't get to ride the railroad for free. Everything has a price, and since you got out of paying before, you're going to pay now." A gruff voice called out from above him.

Railroad workers are perfectly fine so long as you don't cause them any trouble, or in Spenser's case, hitch a ride for free. Normally Spenser would have lashed out with his bat with no regard for a body count, besides, by the time anyone figured out they were missing, the train, and Spenser, would have been long gone.

Unfortunately, the railroad workers happened to come across Spenser while he was sleeping for the first time in days. By the time he realized what was going on, he had already been pinned to the ground with no hope of reaching his bat.

When the man noticed that Spenser wasn't fighting back, he took his foot off of Spenser's back and proceeded to kick him. The other men just stood and looked down at Spenser with their arms crossed, and chuckled at the sight of the young man being beaten on the ground.

When the railroad worker had either decided that Spenser had learned his lesson, or grew bored with his grotesque entertainment, he stopped his abuse and turned to his friends.

"Alright. We'd better get back to work and finish checking the train."

As each man walked past Spenser, he added a kick and spit on the form that lay on the ground. Spenser felt his bag hit him on the back and his bat fall to the ground next to him.

He thought to himself right before he blacked out, "Things haven't turned out quite as I planned, but at least I still have my stuff."

**********

By the time Spenser regained consciousness, it was starting to get dark and the train was gone. He estimated that he'd probably been out for about twelve hours, maybe longer. It was summer, and the sun came up early and set late, so it was harder to tell the exact time. Spenser took a look around him, and saw, to his horror, that his bag had been rummaged through and the money that he kept in the bag was gone. He still had some in his pockets, but not enough to live on for any amount of time.

Spenser needed a job.

He tried to stand, but found that his left leg would hardly hold his weight, and felt a shooting pain in his chest, which he attributed to a cracked rib that had most likely been acquired by his beating that morning.

Upon realizing that he had received more damage than he had anticipated, he began to check his body for breaks, bruises, and blood. When he was certain that there was nothing wrong with his hands or arms, he carefully removed his shirt so that he could take a better look at his cracked rib.

His entire torso and back were covered in ugly bruises that made it difficult to tell where any real damage was. Spenser gently applied pressure to each of his ribs separately to see where the problem was. He hissed in pain as he came across the offending bone. There was no way to fix it here; if he had been in his own home, or at the very least had some household utensils, he could protect the rib from further damage and ease some of the pain. He wanted to sleep again, but self preservation pushed him on; he heard voices not too far off, and limped through his pain in their general direction.

Like the cowboy at the end of Western movies, Spenser disappeared into the sunset.

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review and dont review about this has nothing to do with this series cuz this is a genarel and deal wid it


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